


Collared

by omgbubblesomg



Series: Mind Over Matter [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood and Gore, Bottom Dean, Collared Dean, Collars, Dark, Dean Whump, Demon Blood Addiction, Escaped Sex Slave Dean, Exhaustion, Kinktober 2017, M/M, Murder, No Lube, On the Run, POV Outsider, Possessive Sam Winchester, Public Sex, Sam Winchester on Demon Blood, Sex Slave Dean, Stalking, Telekinesis, Top Sam, Yandere, yandere Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 07:25:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12452508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgbubblesomg/pseuds/omgbubblesomg
Summary: A stranger walks into a metal-worker's shop, wearing a scarf and jacket even though it's summer. Beneath the jacket there are scars and bruises, and beneath the scarf there's a thick metal collar. The collar is covered in weird symbols, and on the inside there's a name.Sam's





	Collared

**Author's Note:**

> Erm so someone mentioned yandere on one of my other fics and I had never heard of it. I did a total of five minutes of research before writing this so… I hope it comes at least close to what yandere!Sam is supposed to be.
> 
> (PS do you have something else you want me to write? Come check out [this charity auction!](https://fandomlovespuertorico.dreamwidth.org/3482.html?thread=295834#cmt295834) I promise to actually do research for winning prompts)
> 
> Kinktober day 22: Glory hole | **collaring** | **scars**

Shane was the last one in the store. Everyone else had gone home hours ago. It was well past dark and he was almost finished closing, turning off the heavy machines one by one and locking everything else away. Outside, something screeched. A cat, maybe, or a car taking the turn too quickly. Apart from that, the night was silent.

The tinkle of the door opening sounded too loud, and Shane turned with a huff, kicking himself for not locking it earlier. “We’re closed!” he called. “Ain’t nothin’ I can do for ye tonight. Come back in the mornin'”

“I can’t wait that long,” came a voice. The owner came round the corner, bowlegged and looking nervous and ridiculous in a thick scarf and long-sleeved shirt, even though it was mid-July. He was wearing a cap, too, and sunglasses. Indoors. At night. Shane rolled his eyes.

“Can’t help ye, buddy.”

“Please, it… it won’t take much time. I just need a bolt cutter.”

Shane continued switching lights off. “The bolt cutter’ll be here in the morn’” he said, though he couldn’t help taking another look at the stranger. He was twisting the ends of the scarf around his fingers, and his shoulders were hunched in, as though he was expecting a blow. His face was hidden behind the glasses and cap. Everything except his mouth, that was. Bruised pink lips and a split on one side. “What’re you wantin’ a bolt cutter for anyways?” he asked despite himself. “We don’t open no locks or nothin’ less’n you can prove it’s yours.”

The stranger’s mouth distorted. “It’s mine,” he deadpanned. “Look I… I really need it done. Tonight. I can’t stay in town. Please. I can… I can make it worth your while.” His mouth twisted again and Shane got a funny feeling in his stomach. The stranger was offering something that no guy should ever offer.

“Don’t be sayin’ that too loud,” he warned. “Folks round here’ll knock yer head in if they hear ye.”

“I don’t want a fight,” the stranger said quietly. “I want those bolt cutters.”

Shane looked down and realised that he was holding them. He didn’t even remember taking them out of the storage cabinet. “Go on then,” he sighed. “Show me the lock.”

The stranger hesitated for a long second, then pulled the scarf off. Shane’s stomach flipped again. No wonder the stranger had been wearing it. Underneath was a thick metal collar. It looked heavy and cumbersome, and even from a few paces away Shane could see the bruising it had caused where it rested against the stranger’s collarbones.

“Well?” the stranger snapped, and Shane realised he had been staring.

“Christ, buddy. Ain’t never seen nothin’ like that before.”

“Can you get it off?”

Shane reached out without thinking, and the stranger jerked away. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Gotta get a look at it.” The stranger straightened again, until Shane could get his fingers beneath the metal, testing it. From up close, he could see that there was a litter of bruises not just on the stranger’s clavicle, but all up and down his neck, and along his jaw, too. Some of them looked like fingerprints. Some of them looked… worse.

He’d seen a lot of kinky shit in his time. Part of the job if you were a metalworker. But he’d never seen anything like this. It was easily an inch thick, and from what he could tell, there was no hinge or catch, which meant it had been welded into place. He swore softly.

“Your boyfriend do this to ya?”

“Something like that. Can you get it off?”

“Not with bolt cutters I can’t.”

The stranger jerked away, and began to put the scarf back on. “Thanks anyway,” he muttered.

“Hang on,” Shane continued. “We got a drill out the back, reckon I can crack it.”

The stranger hesitated, but followed him into the back room. Shane turned one of the machines back on. When he gestured, the stranger sat in an adjacent chair, and only hesitated a moment when Shane asked him to take the jacket and hat off. Shane tried not to stare. The bruises continued all down his arms, and there were scars, too. Around his wrists. Regardless, he let Shane position his head so the drill would go through the side of the collar. Shane set up some blocks to stop any movement, and hesitated before he started. “Don’ move,” he warned, and then lowered the drill head down.

It took almost twenty minutes. The collar was denser than Shane had initially guessed, and the drill bit through it slowly. When it finally cracked he had to chip away at it carefully before he could ease the bolt cutters through the crack to split it open the rest of the way.

As soon as it was off the stranger shoved back, bending and cracking his neck every which way. For a moment, Shane got a glimpse of a nest of scars along his back, starting at the base of his neck and disappearing beneath his shirt. Shane bit his lip. “Listen,” he tried. “Round here the folks don’t like anythin’ tha’s different, but you go to the coppers, ask for Sergeant Dymes, he’ll get ye someplace safe. Don’t matter which ways you like it.”

“Thanks for the advice,” the stranger said, dryly. “But cops can’t protect me.” He eyed Shane. “Thanks for… getting it off, but I uh… I don’t have… I can’t—”

Shane waved him off. “Ain’t gonna take ye money.”

The stranger shrugged his jacket back on without arguing. “Probably best you forget I was here,” he said, and then he was out the door before Shane could even offer him a ride home.

The collar lay broken and evil on the floor. There was writing on the inside. Funny symbols and, in English, a name. “Sam’s.”

He chucked it in the smelter.

Three days later he was closing the shop again, and the door tinkled open. He turned around, half expecting to see the bruised stranger, but it was someone different, though no less strange. He was tall. Astronomically so. And he radiated the kind of malevolence that had Shane reaching for the gun beneath the counter. When his fingers closed around it he found that he couldn’t move his hand. Or any other part of his body. He was frozen behind the till, unable to step away as the giant stalked forward.

“Where is he?” the giant growled.

Shane tightened his lips. He wasn’t going to give anything away.

And then the pain started.

 

\------------

 

Sally was watching Gilmore Girls reruns when the cute guy came in. She couldn’t see much of his face, but she knew he was cute. His lips were visible beneath his dark glasses and _mercy_ , they were sinful lips. She smiled crookedly and leaned her elbows on the counter in a way that had most people staring straight at her chest. The cute guy didn’t even glance down.

“I need a room,” he said, and his voice was hoarse. Now that she was looking closer, Sally could see faded bruises on his neck, and a crack in one of his perfect round lips. She frowned and stood up straighter, moving to cover herself.

“We don’t have what you’re after,” she said, the standard line for anyone that looked like trouble.

“Just need a bed.” Sally took a moment to look at him. _Really_ look at him. His back was broad and he had obvious muscle on his arms and chest. Usually the kind of guy she tried to jump on immediately. But his shoulders were stooping and his hands were hanging at his side. He looked… he looked fucking _weary._ Not just tired or sleepy, but exhausted. Beyond the limits of endurance.

“We got a room,” she heard herself saying. “Last one on the left.” She pointed him down the hall, and as he turned around she saw a scar on the back of one shoulder, leading underneath the guy’s shirt. It looked pink and fresh. It wasn’t until hours later that she realised she hadn’t even asked the guy for a deposit on the room.

The guy didn’t stay long enough to need one. He slept ten hours straight then slipped out while Sally was on her lunch break. He hadn’t touched anything in the room except the bed.

She tried to forget about him, and would have succeeded if a tall handsome stranger hadn’t walked in two days later.

“Where is he?” the tall guy asked.

“Dunno who you’re after, gorgeous, but you’ve found me instead.” She winked, and then choked as something invisible wrapped around her neck, hoisting her up into the air. She tried to scream, but nothing came out.

“I won’t ask again,” the tall guy warned.

And then the pain started.

 

\----------------

 

Todd was minding his own damn business when he saw the guy. Bowed legs and big shoulders and, when he passed by the glow of a street lamp, a face that would have anyone hard in their slacks. With a grin, Todd flicked his cigarette butt into the gutter and followed, keeping a fair distance between himself and that fucking fine piece of ass. He licked his lips. The guy was walking fast, as though trying to keep ahead of someone. Todd almost lost him until he took an abrupt turn left down an alleyway. Todd chuckled to himself. Obviously the guy wasn’t a local. That alleyway was a dead end. He pulled his gun out of the waistband of his pants and followed the guy in.

They met halfway, and the guy—fuck he was pretty—was on instant alert. Todd kept the gun loose at his side, but it was a fairly obvious giveaway that he wasn’t lost. He meant business.

“Hey there,” he said, friendly as you please. “You ain’t from around here, are ya?”

“Don’t do this,” the guy warned, and _fuck_ , his voice was hoarse and broken as if he’d already had a cock down there tonight.

“We’re gonna do this nice and calm now, ain’t we?” Todd asked, except it wasn’t a question. He angled the gun just slightly, and the guy froze in place. “You’re gonna get on your knees real sweet now, kay?”

“Seriously,” the guy said. “You don’t want to do this. He’ll kill you.”

“Ain’t no one else around,” Todd said, calling the guy’s bluff. “You’re here alone.”

“I wish.”

“On your knees, now.” He brought the gun higher and flicked the safety off. The guy dropped to his knees. “Open your mouth,” Todd ordered, and he almost creamed himself when the guy bit his lip, hesitating, before obeying. “That’s it,” Todd praised, stepping closer. He fumbled one-handed at his fly.

“There’s someone coming,” said the guy, so close to begging that Todd’s dick actually twitched. “He’s following me, and if he finds you he’ll kill you. If you touch me he’ll make it slow.”

“Keep your mouth open,” Todd warned, and then stepped in close to brush the head of his cock over the guy’s lips. They were chapped and dry, but Todd could think of a few ways to get them wet. He slipped inside, and had the briefest rush of ecstasy before the world went sideways.

He blinked, and found that he was on the dirty alleyway floor. His head was ringing. He saw his own arm lying in front of him, bent backwards in a way that was so unnatural his stomach revolted immediately. He brought up his dinner, and almost blacked out as the wracking hacks jolted him.

“Sam!” someone was shouting. “Sam, don’t! He didn’t hurt me!”

“He had his dick in your mouth,” something growled, sounding more animal than human.

“God, Sammy, wake the fuck up!”

The animal snarled, and there was a sound like ripping fabric. Todd coughed, and blood bubbled out of his mouth. He couldn’t even turn to see what was happening behind him. God, he hurt. Everything hurt.

“Sam, don’t! Let me go!”

“You’re mine, when are you going to learn—” More ripping fabric, and a scream. “No one touches you but me.”

“Sam, wait! Don’t, I’m—Sammy please, this isn’t you!”

“This is me, and you’re _mine._ ” Another snarl, and this time the accompanying scream was Todd’s. Something had wrapped around his twisted arm, and even though he couldn’t see it, he could _feel_ it, squeezing. The agony had him whiting out. What kind of fucked up hoodoo was this?

“Don’t hurt him, Sam, he didn’t know—”

 More ripping fabric, and the wet sound of someone spitting. The pressure on his arm squeezed again and he cried out, jerking spasmodically on the ground.

“Sam, wait! I’m not—!” The guy’s voice was cut off by a scream and Todd almost threw up again when the scream broke off into a whimper, punctuated by the visceral sound of skin slapping skin.

The invisible pressure on his arm disappeared and he tried to wriggle away, only to have a new kind of pain. Something wrapped around his neck, hauling him upright. He choked and couldn’t get any air past the obstruction. He spun slowly in midair until he was facing the alleyway again, and the guy was still there, naked now, standing with his face against the wall and a giant between his parted legs. The giant was thrusting hard, seemingly without care as blood trickled from the first guy’s hole.

“He’ll get to watch you come on my dick, and that’ll be the last thing he ever sees.”

“Sam, please!” _Slap. Slap. Slap._ “He didn’t know!”

“You’re _mine._ ” The giant thrust up again, again, and the first guy screamed and started babbling into the wall, crying and begging.

“Okay, Sammy, okay, okay, we’ll make it work, okay, just let the guy go, _ah!_ We can dump him at the police station, he didn’t know, I’m yours, okay? Sam? Sammy, you hear me? Let him go and I’ll come quiet. Come on. He hardly touched me. He didn’t know I’m yours. Let him go.”

The giant fucked up particularly hard, obviously coming, and Todd whimpered as the pressure around his throat increased.

“No,” the giant snarled.

Todd had thought he had been in pain before, but that had been nothing. Nothing like this. He blacked out to the sound of his own ribs snapping as something invisible crushed him in midair.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tune if for Kink Day 23: Corsets


End file.
